


snapshots of the worlds we've lived in

by solamaryllis



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abuse References, Adam - Freeform, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, IS HERE, PTSD, Trauma, Triggers, almost dead, and there will be abuse, happy endings, hnghhhhh i don't want to do them wrong, i haven't written in forever i need to relearn these characters, im sorry, the fucking goatman, they're dense your honor, this is my learning to write again, usually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solamaryllis/pseuds/solamaryllis
Summary: there are times where it's so simple, it's stupid. there are times it's so complicated, it's stupid.Blake falls for Yang, Yang falls for Blake, ghosts are seen in the rearview mirror as they run, but as it says, things in the rearview mirror are always much closer than they appear. But no matter how many times, in how many ways they finally find each other, the universe makes them do it again.And again they will fight for each other. Because they're the impossible couple, uniting in universe after universe.a series of one-shots that may occasionally be related. requests from my friends.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 29
Kudos: 42





	1. engine ft. bees

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: engine

Blake’s cat ears flicked in the direction of the door when she heard the familiar rumble of her best friend’s motorcycle. Slipping a bookmark into her book, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to focus once Yang walked inside, she got out of her chair and made her way to the door, anxious to make sure that Yang was alright. 

Once she heard Yang fumbling for her scroll, she unlocked the door and gave the girl a quick once over before pulling her into the house and closing the door behind her. The team was currently crashing at Jaune’s sister’s house, and the rest of them were out currently, doing whatever they could to blow off steam and relax before they put their quite harebrained plan into action tomorrow. Blake subconsciously started scratching at her arm, the habit so ingrained in her she didn’t even notice.

“Blake I-”

“Yang let me-”

Both girls made eye contact and Blake quickly looked away before Yang could read the emotions that were probably running rampant in her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, Yang always knew. It was most likely because she was good at reading people, and not because of any underlying feelings, no matter how hard Blake wished they would be. Yang was so, so, untouchable, so far, so out of reach. At least in that sense. Maybe there was a time where she wasn’t, but Blake was sure she ruined any chance of that back at Beacon, back before even immortal gods, magical items, secret powers came into the picture.

Back when she left when Yang needed her most because she foolishly thought that would somehow help her.

Even now, while Yang looked at her with that face, that look, that only she could give, Blake fought the urge to rip the door open and run, run away from all of this. Run away from her feelings, run away from their responsibilities, run away from the seemingly unstoppable destruction, just, run.

Blake focused on the sleeve of Yang’s jacket as she opened her mouth to speak, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get the words out if she tried to look Yang in the eye. Even if Yang wanted nothing to do with her, she could breathe easier, knowing that for once she had done the right thing, even though it had never felt so much like the wrong.

“I, I really don’t know why I’m saying this, or if I’m wrong, or if this is just going to push you away even more, but I have to say it, because it feels like I’m lying to you, and I hate that feeling. And I said I would talk to you guys, and I don’t want to say the wrong this like back at the shed at the farm, but I, I—”

Blake knew she was rambling, she knew Yang would pick up that something was wrong, she knew it, she knew it, and she knew she should just say it before Yang said something, just spit it out but it was so hard, and she wasn’t sure how the words were both too many and not enough-

“Yang, I’m in lo-, in lo-, I really really like, hngh, I really like you, much much more than a friend.”

She blew out a long breath and dropped her eyes to the floor, her scratching getting harder, dots appearing on her skin, but Blake paid it no mind.

Time passed and Yang said nothing.

Blake internally screamed. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, to see what Yang’s reaction was, and she frantically tried to put together an apology so she could just run upstairs or maybe even out the door, do something, anything other than stay in the house and make Yang uncomfortable, no matter-

She stopped short when the cold fingers of Yang’s arm pry her own from her, stopping her mid-scratch, and felt a shiver run through her at the sensation of her cold prosthetic on her inflamed skin. 

Yang pulled her in for a hug, holding her tight, and Blake could feel her shaky breath on her ear, on part of her neck, and she felt herself crumble.

She’d done it again, hurt the person she held most dear, the one that she did her best not to but always managed to hurt the most, he wasn’t wrong, it was all she was good for—

But then she began talking.

“Blake...did you...did you mean that? That you...you like me as more than a friend? You like—like me?” 

“Yes.”

She couldn’t say anything more, she didn’t trust her words to fail her again. She hugged Yang as hard as she could, and slowly angled her head so she could place a light kiss on the side of Yang’s head. It was a bit awkward, more on her hair than anything else, but Blake felt Yang tense, and then she pulled back and kissed her properly. 

She couldn’t think.

She didn’t know what to think. 

But she did know how to kiss her back. 

Blake leaned into her and couldn’t help but stare as Yang pulled back and looked at her with an expression full of feelings she didn’t know how to place—how to describe. 

Feelings she thought were more than her worth but instinctively knew that were just right. 

“Can I, can I take you on a date? Like right now? Everyone’s out and about, we could go get something to eat, wander around and see what happens, we have Bumblebee too, the city is yours for the taking.”

Blake blinked at the request before a smile made its home on her face. Of course, of course, Yang would ask her on a date, she was a gentlewoman, she was so much, so much more, but everything. 

“Yes. I would very much like that.” 

Yang smiled brightly, her entire face glowing, eyes shining with so many things left unsaid, things they both knew, things that could be whispered later in the comfort of each other’s arms, hidden away from the world, protecting each other. Yang pointed in the direction of the door and they walked out, hand in hand, a silent promise to each other made. 

As Blake got on the bike behind Yang and heard the soft rumble of the engine, she promised she’d work on not listening to the voice inside—the voice that sounded all too often like the ever looming threat of Adam. Instead, she’d listen to a different voice, one that sounded much more familiar, odd almost. 

She’d listen to her own, and with Yang’s help, by Gods, she’d fight her demons.


	2. series ft. bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: series

Yang sighed as she tried and failed again to catch Blake’s attention. She was working on the last book in her series and was determined to get the ending just right. Blake had holed herself up in the office in the morning with a large tumbler of tea, with a simple “Good morning” to her and Weiss. Ruby was out with Penny, filming the process of whatever their latest invention was, so she hadn’t come home last night, and thus the house was much quieter than usual without her machinery going off at odd times or gods forbid, exploding.

Ruby liked to insist that it only happened twice, but that was twice too many and Wiess had insisted she and Penny move their workshop over to Penny’s house. 

Yang made her way over to the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry and fridge to see what she could make that was filling but also mess-free. If she somehow managed to get Blake to eat today, which would be a miracle in it of itself, Blake would most likely crucify her if she made a mess of her laptop. Normally it wouldn’t be much of a problem, but knowing Blake, anything larger or messier than bite-sized finger foods would most likely require too much of her attention and she’d drop it on her laptop or something equally as damning, and lose her train of focus or worse yet--her work. 

She let out a quiet “yes sir!” when she found a carton of eggs and was struck with inspiration. Yang carefully placed the eggs on the counter next to the refrigerator and rummaged around for a bit more, moving stuff around the shelves, peaking in containers for the dip she knew should be in one of these somewhere, maybe in the last yogurt container-

“Yes! This will go nicely, now for a limeade or some type of drink…”

Yang scrunched her face for a second before shrugging and going back into the fridge and squatting down, opening one of the bottom drawers and taking out a couple of limes and placing them on the counter. She closed the fridge and stood back up, hearing her back pop and wincing slightly, imagining how Blake was feeling. Yang had been moving around quite a bit today, and she was still a little still after a small amount of time of inactivity, so Blake having spent hours frantically typing and combing over her manuscript over and over-

She turned towards the island and bent to shuffle through the pots and pans, doing her best to stay quiet, which was hard since all their pots were precariously stacked on top of each other. Yang went for the second smallest pot they had, flinching when the smaller pot slipped out of her reach and clattered against the other pots for what seemed like forever before it stopped. She peeked over the island into the office, but it didn’t look like Blake had moved at all. 

She filled it with water and quietly hummed to herself, swaying gently back and forth on her feet as she set the water to boil, dropping in her eggs. Six should do the trick. Blake was going to be hungry, and Yang couldn’t remember for the life of her if Blake had eaten breakfast or not that morning before setting herself up in her office. Wiess had cast a sympathetic glance at the closed office door before grabbing her purse and heading out for the day. She would have rather stayed home and helped Yang keep an eye on Blake, but she needed to go to her office in person, some intern had royally fucked up and now Wiess needed to redo a major project before things truly went down in flames. 

Yang turned her attention back to the stove when she heard the water boiling, and went to grab a bowl plate, not trusting the eggs to not roll away the second she let go of them. She drained the water and let the eggs cool a bit while she set up the plate and made the limeade. She squeezed the limes into a cup and added water and a small spoonful of sugar before mixing it all together. Yang started singing softly under her breath while she freed the eggs from their little cages of a shell and cut them in halves and added a dollop of dip on them and then placed them on the plate. 

She grabbed the cup and bowl plate and made her way over to the office, making sure to knock, even though she knew there was a very little chance of Blake looking up. 

She managed to get the door open while only spilling a little bit of the drink and quietly made her way around the desk while trying to find an open spot within Blake’s reach that was open where she could put the food. Finding one on her left, she gently put the plate down, making sure not to let any of the eggs slide out, and then with her newly freed hand, moved a couple of papers away to keep from staining them with the drink.

She had read the previous books in Blake’s series and was looking forward to finding out what happened to the protagonist in the last book, as the previous one had not ended on the best of notes. Blake had always told her she could ask and she’d let her read the manuscript, but Yang always turned her down, saying “Spoilers, Belladonna!” and Blake would laugh and give her this look that almost made Yang wish for more, wish for a story to be written about them, about their feelings, to somehow take the words Yang couldn’t bring herself to say and immortalize them on paper.

She smiled at Blake with uncensored adoration, holding the woman before her in the highest regard. 

Yang was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Blake snap out of her trance when she reached for her papers and instead found her drink. Blake looked at Yang and knew full well what thoughts were running through her best friend’s head. Or she liked to convince herself she did.

She had a story saved on her computer, a story she’d written of the both of them, though she was pretty sure she’d be the only one who’d ever read it. How she dreamed of taking the words she wrote for herself, for others, and saying them to the one who deserved that and so much more, much more than could be expressed with saying that were more often than not, overused.

Blake moved to stand and startled Yang out of her trance, just in time to grab her arm and help her regain her balance that’d she’d lost after sitting for so long, and one of her legs was all pins and needles to make things worse. 

“I think I’m done with it Yang, no need to worry.”

Yang stared at her, thoughts running through her eyes, much too fast for Blake to try to decipher.

Yang grinned and pushed the plate of eggs towards her. 

“Here. I know you’re hungry, but I wasn’t sure how hungry, and I didn’t want something too messy, though now that I think about it, the dip might have been a bit much, but I’m glad.”

“Glad?”

“Well, now that you’re finished writing, you can eat a full meal! And stretch, maybe let me give you a massage? You cannot possibly be comfortable after sitting ramrod straight for hours Blake. My back hurt from watching you!”

Yang internally winced at how her mouth kept moving, kept speaking, why, why, why on remnant were words still coming out of her mouth?

Blake nodded and popped an egg half into her mouth, a delightful look passing over her face as the dip provided a nice punch in contrast to the soft egg. She slid her hand into Yang’s and lead her out towards the living room and onto the couch.

“You owe me a massage now, Xiao Long, I hope you’re ready for that!”

Yang grinned and deftly moved Blake’s hair off of her shoulders as she began working on the tense muscles the woman had developed over the day.

One day, she’d remember that day, and laugh at the absurdity of it all. She’d turn to Blake sitting next to her, working on a rough draft of the second book in a series—though this time it was their series—and recall the memory with her and they’d both laugh at the cluelessness of their previous selves. 

If Yang could wait a bit longer, she’d get her series alright. Her series about her and the love of her life—written by the love of all her lives.


	3. lip ft. trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: lip
> 
> this ran away from me so fast. i wanted it to end happier, but I also want to sleep, so--TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING. please don't read if abuse and gaslighting mess with you. when I say this ran away from me, it fucking sprinted.

Blake whimpered and curled up in a tighter ball than she already was, biting her lip to the point of blood to keep quiet as the storm outside raged. She hated this feeling, hated the fear turning her blood to ice in her veins, the unpredictability of the storms she’d once been fond of. 

She learned to hate them because of the way they made _him _feel. And she knew he’d take it out on her, more so if she reacted, which is why she bit down on her lip as another clap of thunder reverberated throughout the room that felt smaller and smaller every time. A small sound of distress left her mouth when she felt a large soft hand brush up against her back and when it stopped she knew, she just knew, that this was not going to end well.__

____

____

He’d heard her, and he thought she was reacting to him and not to the storm. 

He’d been more irrational than usual lately, and as the bed shifted and she felt his hand close around her shoulder and turn her towards him. Fear made its home in the pit of her stomach, and all her nightmares flashed behind her eyes, everyone of them more dreadful than the last, and everyone of them a real possibility. She dared to open her eyes and all she saw was blue. 

She heard the blue call out to her, calling her a disgrace, weak, burdensome.

She fought the losing battle against crying.

And once that first tear left her eyes, she knew she lost, she’d lost not only the battle, but most likely the war as well. 

The blue turned sharp, piercing, cold, _threatening _. And in that moment, lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the room briefly, and those eyes narrowed when they saw something on her face. The hand on her shoulder jerked her up harshly, a startled gasp leaving her mouth.__

____

____

The fingers dug into her shoulder, and if they stayed there for much longer, Blake knew that there would be a new set of crescent moon shaped scars to add to her never ending collection. Blake opened her mouth to apologize and felt his other hand reach up to hold her face. He held it tight, passing his thumb over her bottom lip, and Blake winced as she felt a dull ache. He looked at his hand and frowned, and Blake knew pain was soon to follow. Whether it was pain in her mind, or pain on her skin, she wasn’t sure, but neither was an appealing option. Thunder crashed again and blue flinched slightly at the sound and Blake felt a small spark of joy from it. 

He shoved her against the headboard and Blake was unprepared enough for her full weight to land on her shoulder and wrist as she tried to keep from falling off the bed. She flinched when he reached for her, and that apparently was his tipping point. 

“NO, please, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“You didn’t mean it? Oh but darling, I rather think you did. This isn’t the first time, and I don’t know if you remember what I told you earlier about cheating on me.”

Blake winced as he yanked on her arm, dragging her out of the bed, out of the shelter of the blankets, and out of the bedroom and into the living room. 

He shoved her towards the garage, and as she fought to keep her balance, Blake felt a panic seize her. She did her best to try and snuff it out, knowing if she pushed him anymore at the moment, there was a very good chance she wouldn’t survive it. And at the moment the thought crossed her head, she tripped but angled herself into the kitchen. 

If she was going to go through with this harebrained plan, she needed a weapon. And the closest thing she could get to was the kitchen. Because once she was in the garage, Blake knew, she didn’t know how, but she knew this time would be different, he misinterpreted her fear as indifference, as rejection. 

She wasn’t sure of the details, but there was a lethal finality to that door at the end of the hall she wasn’t willing to embrace. Not yet. She couldn’t. 

She hit the floor and was slow in getting up, attempting to locate the knives she knew were on the counter. He kicked her side, scoffing when she crumpled to the floor, a rattling breath all she could say. 

Not the curses that flitted across her mind, not the damnation she so dearly wished upon him. 

“I’m sorry!”

Oh how she hated the way she felt her lip burn as the spoken words opened her wound further, how the taste of blood she knew far too well reminded her of why she was doing what she was. 

No matter how much like death she looked, she didn’t want it to claim her.

Blake Belladonna did not want to die. 

She grit her teeth as her stomach rolled, bile rising in her throat as she made a dive for the cutlery block and grabbed one of the larger knives, turning towards _him _with defiance in her eyes and a strength she hadn’t felt in almost a year.__

____

____

But all he did was walk towards her with a slow clap, a deadly smirk on his face.

“What are you going to do with that darling? Put it down before you hurt yourself, you’re already bleeding, let’s go get you patched up alright?”

She almost believed him, almost believed she was an idiot and had sealed her fate for nothing and that there was nothing she could do but then she noticed his posture.

He was frightened. Of her. 

Granted, she had a knife and most would be insane to not be frightened, but him? Frightened? 

She felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

“No, I’m not putting it down. I’m going to walk out of this house, get in my car and drive away, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Thunder crashed and Blake flinched slightly, and she hoped his blue eye didn’t catch that. When he made no snide comment about it, she knew she was in the clear. At least for that little mistake. She walked towards him, forcing herself to take one step after the other and made her way past him, holding him at bay with the knife, inching her way backwards towards the door.

She made it to the front door and grabbed her keys, then unlocked the front door. 

He hadn’t moved at all.

Blake’s face scrunched in confusion, but she didn’t dwell on it. She opened the door and her ears rang with the sound of the rain. 

She took one last look at where he was standing, and made a break for her car. She managed to unlock it and climb in, close the door behind her and had just taken a shaky inhale when a hand slammed into her window. 

She frantically tried to lock the car and felt a brief wave of relief when she did, but then was quickly overtaken with panic when he began to beat at the window, fully intent on breaking it. 

There was a loud noise, it was so so loud, and it wasn’t the rain, but she wasn’t sure where it was coming from. 

Blake turned the keys in the ignition and prayed to whoever was out there that could hear her for the car to start. 

It didn’t. Bile rose in her throat and she started losing sight as she tried again. And again. And again. 

And it wasn’t working. 

Her window shattered and she brought her hands to her face to try and shield herself from the glass, but pieces made their way into her hair and others scraped their way down her face as the noise grew louder, deafening. 

She squeezed her eyes shut as the glass rained down around her, a prayer to whatever gods could hear, to whatever gods would care—

_’Gods, give me something. Send me a savior, an angel, a reason.’_

__

__

__

__

_____ _

_____ _

____

____

_____ _

_____ _

He grabbed the knife and yanked it out of her hand, forcing her fingers and wrist to bend in ways unnatural. She felt a crack and tried to yank her hand free.

“This, this is all because you were a disobedient fucking _slut _Blake. This is all because you couldn’t keep your promise.”__

____

____

And then there was fire. Her left side screamed in protest and the loud noise was all she could hear. 

Then there she was, her savior, her angel. 

Her eyes followed the gold as she tried to focus, trying her best to block out the noise. Where was it coming from? Why wouldn’t it stop? Was it the storm?

Gold turned towards her and all Blake saw were her red eyes. She knew she should be scared, but there was a fury, a almost righteous fury in those eyes, and she knew she would follow them anywhere, heaven or hell, moon and planets beyond, wherever. 

Gold reached inside the window and unlocked the door before enveloping her. 

Blake was soaked in seconds, but she didn’t care. Her savior looked at her with a caring so foreign, it was something she’d only read about, dreamed of.

The saviors hand touched her lip, and came away red, but instead of feeling pain, Blake only felt the sensation of her hand on her mouth.

Her saviors hands weren’t soft, they were harder, worked, strong.

She vaguely recognized that she was being moved, saw the red and blue of what could have been help, but she didn’t need them. 

Her savior was real, and she was holding her. 

Blake leaned into her and let herself unroll, the loud noise had finally stopped, and she was feeling sleepy. 

Her angel looked at her and her eyes grew wide. Blake could tell she was saying something, but what she didn’t know. 

All she knew was that her eyes were lilac, wait, hadn’t they been red?

With a shaky hand she reached up and touched her saviors face, just to make sure she was real. Her hand passed over her mouth as she slipped off, and Blake’s last clear thought was __

_’Her lips are soft as honey’ ___

____

__Later Blake would learn that the loud noise that she kept hearing were her own terrorized agony-filled screams._ _

____

____

____

Yang let out a scream as the woman in her arms passed out. She screamed for the paramedics to save her, she screamed in anger at the woman’s condition, she screamed when the police came and said that there was no man matching her description in the driveway of the home. 

She screamed until her lips were chapped and her voice long gone. She screamed in fear.

Later Yang would learn she had been a prime suspect for the woman’s condition, but her own angry, panic-fueled screams had told police and first responders a different story.

Though she knew next to nothing about the woman she had risked so much to save, she knew she would risk everything again just to see her smile, just to hear her talk-

To see those golden eyes again, but instead of terrified, unfocused, haunted-

Happy, aware, loved.


	4. peasant ft. bees baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: peasant. once again, this spiraled. i need to work on one train of thought, I don't know where this royalish au went. i just know it went away.

Yang blinked herself awake, rubbing her eyes with her hands as she sat up in her too-large bed, and started when she saw her handmaidens standing by the side of her bed, seemingly anxiously waiting for her to awake, but not anxious enough to the point of trying to wake her up. 

She groaned and rolled off of the side, landing in a crouch on the side of the bed, the older handmaidens rolling their eyes and moving towards her while the more recent addition panicked slightly at the movement, not being used to her yet.

They shuffled her off to the bath, carefully going over nearly every inch of skin that left Yang much more uncomfortable than she was willing to admit, and then got started on her unruly hair.

Well, to the outsider it was unruly, but the closer one got, the more one noticed that there was a clear curl definition and pattern to her blonde curls. She hated having people touch her head, but she bore the ladies touching it for their sake. She’d done her own hair a couple of times but stopped after she overheard a conversation where the handmaidens had panicked about it, wondering if she was upset with them and if she was going to have them replaced if they were inadequate for her tastes. One of the women had nearly gone into a panic at the thought of losing her job and started talking about how her family would suffer if she lost it. And then to top it off, not many places actually paid Faunus anything remotely decent for their labor, though almost everywhere one looked there were Faunus workers. 

That was one of the many things Yang hated, and one of the things she had managed to convince her father that needed to change and to lead change by example. Her father was all for it, as was her sister. 

So if the woman lost her job at the palace, her family was almost sentenced to starvation. 

Yang felt a deep sense of guilt and regret that day, and though she didn’t like it, she let the handmaidens do her hair in elaborate hairstyles to try and keep them from feeling the way that one woman felt that day. 

They finished and Yang looked in a mirror and say that her hair was in a simple but elegant updo, with pieces hanging out to frame her face, and one piece on each side extra long, something her maids did so she could mess with it, twirl it around her finger, do whatever without taking apart their hard work like she had accidentally done the first time. 

Yang slipped into a lilac dress that ended a couple inches below her knee, the short petticoat that she was wearing fluffing it out making her cringe internally. She hated it, but who was she to say otherwise?

She walked out and put on some white pumps, keeping the look simple and clean. The maids gave her a lookover and deemed it appropriate enough for her to go about her day. She was feeling a little drained and she hadn’t even left her room yet. Yang wasn’t looking for anything big, so she decided she’d spend the day wandering the halls, knowing that someone was usually watching her so they’d have a general idea of where she was should something happen or for some reason they need her. 

Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she made her way to her sisters workshop in one of the more protected areas of the palace, even though her workshop was underground and Yang was nearly certain that there was something more dangerous in Ruby’s workshop than whatever was outside it. Like, in case of emergency, Yang would make a beeline for the workshop and not for the “royal bunker” which was just a repurposed bedroom. 

She knocked twice, waited and knocked twice more. 

“Come in! SLOWLY!”

Yang turned the handle of the door and inched the door open, which gave her enough to dart out of the way as something came hurtling out of the door and splattered on the floor. 

“Ruby, can I come in now?”

There was some clinking, almost as if Ruby was walking in--armor? Yang desperately wanted to peek, but had learned the hard way to not stick her head inside Ruby’s workshop until she gave the all clear, and even then she had to be careful. 

“Yeah, you’re good now Yang!” 

She waited for a few more seconds, and then ducked into the room, careful to watch her step, lest she trigger one of Ruby’s defense mechanisms the girl may have forgotten about. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. 

Ruby stuck her head out from behind her desk where she was crouched, fiddling with something laid out on the floor. Yang leaned over the desk and noticed something that looked vaguely human-like in shape, though it had very little resemblance to well, anything. 

“Hey Rubes, want to go anywhere?” she asked while she tousled her sister's already messy hair. There were moments where Yang was jealous of the freedom Ruby was given while she on the other hand had several things she was not only expected to adhere to, but was constantly reminded to. 

The younger girl shook her head, before gesturing wildly at the wires and metal bits strewn about her.

“Not today! Maybe soon, there are a couple things I’m beginning to run out of, but I’ve made big progress and I wanna continue on the roll I’m on!” Ruby cheerily explained, not noticing in the slightest the way Yang’s face fell slightly.

“Oh, alright. I’ll be popping in and out, so please don’t aim too many things towards the door! I still wanna be able to come inside and see how my baby sister is doing on all her science-y things.”

Ruby snorted and smiled at Yang, her eyes knowing. 

Yang sighed. She should know Ruby would see through it, but the girl hadn’t objected, so there was that! She waved goodbye and walked out, continuing her endless trek throughout the palace, occasionally popping her head in rooms just to see what was in there and waving hello to all the housekeepers she passed, and occasionally helping some of the older or injured ones. She knew they took great pride in their job, and some would only feel insulted if she tried to help, but she had learned to read people so she could recognize when she was beginning to cross unspoken lines.

She stopped when she noticed a figure hunched in the shadows of a library type room she had stuck her head in by pure coincidence. 

She knew it was a terrible idea to approach a stranger, a possible assassin or someone of the like totally unarmed and completely trusting, but there was something about this person that made it different. There was a little voice in the back of her head that nagged at her that this person needed help--help she could give.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The person’s head snapped up with a speed that had Yang concerned as they tried to make themselves smaller than they already were. At first glance, and even the second, Yang was convinced it was a younger child, hiding a child in their hoodie. 

Before she could reach out, or ask again, a voice that ground her mind to a nearly audible halt was heard.

“And what does that matter to her royal highness? What does she need from her loyal subject, a meager peasant?”

Yang felt the bite behind the words, but was still stuck on the voice. The woman--so it seemed--was obviously hiding something, and her stupidly nosy self was absolutely dying to find out what it was. 

“I just want to ask you a few questions. I don’t know what’s going on, what’s happened to you, but I want to help.”  
A scoff was heard and then was quickly followed by a stifled whimper of what was clearly pain. 

And then Yang made up her mind.

Reaching out, palm up, she slowly reached towards the woman who shied from her touch.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The woman froze, looking up at Yang with a pair of golden eyes that told stories and gave Yang insight into her. Yang’s face softened at the eye contact, and to solidify her point, she repeated it one more time.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She could see the fight leave the woman’s body, though a battle still raged in her eyes on whether to trust her. Yang wasn’t sure what else she could do to convince her that she wasn’t going to hurt her. Her train of thought was derailed by a whisper.

“Can you, can you hide me? He can’t get her, he can’t he can’t he can’t.” There was a desperation, a pleading in that voice that spurred Yang into action. She reached for the woman who allowed herself to be held by her, and she did her best to walk on her own, though the majority of her weight was leaning on Yang as she half-walked, half-carried the woman out of the room. 

She was heading towards her own room when suddenly guards began pouring into the hallway, calling out her name and telling her to hide, that there was an intruder, that he was currently unidentified, but that he was determined to make it into the palace, claiming something of his was stolen by the family. 

Yang was confused until she went to move and the woman had turned to stone.

“Ma’am? Miss? Hello? Hey, hey, focus on me. Listen to me. We’re gonna hide, and the guards are gonna help distract, and we’re gonna be safe. You gotta move.”

The woman shook her head frantically, her breathing accelerating rapidly as pleading cries dropped from her lips faster than Yang could even keep up with. But there were a few she managed to catch that made her blood run cold. 

“Hey. Ma’am. Sweetheart?”

The woman seemed to react a little to the endearment, so Yang kept pushing it.

“Hey, right now, you aren’t a peasant, I’m not a royal. We’re just you and me, and her. If you can’t do it for you, do it for her. Think about her. If he’s here for you, he can’t find her can’t he? That’s not good?”

Yang felt terrible for scaring her, but it spurred her into action. Though keeping up with her was hard. The woman turned and broke into a fear-fueled sprint, Yang doing everything to keep up with her and try to guide her towards Ruby. She finally caught up to her when the woman stopped short, nearly causing Yang to knock them both to the floor with the sudden stop. 

“Hey, what-” she trailed off when she saw the man at the other end of the hall, a bloody sword and smoking gun in either of his hands. The woman began to tremble, and Yang looked around desperately, and noticed they were in Ruby’s hallway, and the door was closer to them than him. She leaned into the woman and whispered a set of instructions and hoped she was aware enough to do them. 

A tiny nod was all she got in affirmation. She took off her heels and held one in each hand, prepared to fight for the woman, though she knew nothing about her. There was just something that told her that was what she needed to do for her.

“HEY!” The woman flinched at the loudness of her voice, but dashed for the door like Yang had asked her to. When the man made a move towards her, Yang threw her first shoe, causing him to stumble and turn his attention from the woman to him and Yang silently pleaded for Ruby to hurry. 

She saw the door click open, and threw the other shoe at the man’s head as the woman slipped in the door, Yang right on her heels. She heard the sound of a gunshot but didn’t stop moving until she’d managed to close Ruby’s door behind her, her instincts overriding her panic and forcing her to go about the locks on the door.

As all the different locks and tumblers fell into place, Yang allowed herself to lean back and relax, just to turn and look at the other two in the room, who were staring at her in growing horror.

“What?”

“Yang, your, your arm- it’s-” Ruby couldn’t finish, no matter how she went about her sentence. 

Yang looked down just to see streaks of blood streaming down her arm. The sight of the blood made her grip the edge of the table and that spurred the nameless woman into action. Had she really, had she really just risked her life to save a nameless peasant she knew nothing about?

‘Yes. Because you know deep down she’s so, so, so much more than that.’

The woman brushed a pile of papers off of a stool and tugged Yang’s good arm in that direction, sitting her down before resting her hands on Yang’s knees as she tried to steady her breathing, before seemingly giving up and crumpling to the floor in front of Yang. 

Ruby managed to snap out of the shock of seeing her sister injured and was digging around in one of her drawers before finding what she was looking for and grabbing a clean towel, made her way over to Yang. She used one end of the towel to wipe the blood, and then sprayed some of whatever was in her bottle on her arm. 

Yang bit her lip to muffle her scream at the sharp burning that sprinted up and down her arm, totally unprepared.

“Sorry! Sorry Yang, I know it hurts, but it hurts less when you’re not expecting it…”

Yang just nodded before clenching her fist and realizing she could move her arm without extreme pain. There was still pain, just greatly diminished. Ruby wrapped the towel around her arm, tying it off to keep it in place before turning her attention to the woman at Yang’s feet. 

“Hey, I’m Ruby. Can you stand? What’s your name? Can you tell me that, can you talk?”

The woman grunted softly before trying to stand and promptly falling back down with a half bitten scream in her mouth. 

“Blake,” she nearly growled. Yang saw her face change, like she hadn’t meant to say her actual name, but then another wave of pain racked her body. Yang couldn’t help it, something possessed her to reach out to Blake, to help her. 

“Sweetheart, Ruby can help. She’s got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty. But you gotta tell us what’s wrong.”

Blake looked up at her from her spot on the floor, her eyes calculating, almost like she was trying to figure out if it was in her favor to take Yang up on her offer.   
A gunshot from outside aimed at the door made her jump, but Ruby just grumbled in annoyance and moved over to her setup, where she began pushing buttons and moving things around. There was yelling, a rapid succession of shots and then silence. Then a thud of something large and heavy hitting the ground. 

Ruby flipped off the door, unknowing of what was beyond, but already mad at it for hurting her sister. That was enough in her book. 

Yang looked back at Blake who seemed more resigned than anything. She cast one more furtive glance at the door, and when nothing came to break it down, she finally spoke up.

“Labor. Help me, please.”

Yang’s eyes grew wide and Ruby panicked slightly, having no experience whatsoever in this area. Yang slid off of her stool, her arm burning a bit at the movement, but she pushed her own pain to the back of her mind, overwhelmed by the all-consuming need to help Blake.

She motioned to the wall and helped Blake scoot over to it, where she pressed her back against the wall where what Yang assumed was another contraction tore through her. 

Yang nestled herself between Blake’s legs, pushing them apart gently and holding the edge of the baggy sundress Blake was wearing in a silent question which Blake answered with a nod. Now with permission, Yang moved the dress back, and noticed that Blake was at the point she needed to push. 

“Ruby! Towels, clean as many as you can!”

“Alrighty-”

“And water! If you have any, and like a bowl.”

Yang could hear her sister moving around, and some towels quickly appeared. Yang placed one on the floor and then gently pushed Blake’s knees back towards her.

“Okay, when I say push, I’m going to need you to push as hard as you can, or I will lose you both, and I don’t know why, but I just know that that can’t - won’t - happen.”

Blake nodded and another contraction started and Yang pushed her back a bit.

“Push!”

Blake grabbed Yang’s hand and pushed as hard as she could, before stopping. 

This cycle went on for what was forever, but couldn’t have possibly been. Finally, the baby - who looked like a carbon copy of her mother - was born and Yang delicately wrapped her in a fluffy towel and tied off the umbilical cord and snipped it before handing the newborn baby girl to her mother. 

Ruby crouched behind Yang whispering her inquires as to not disturb. 

“How did you know what to do?”

“I remember when Mum had you. And I helped that one girl in housekeeping a couple months ago, Saphron I think her name was.”

Ruby nodded, and then seemingly uncomfy with the blood, moved back towards her desk. 

Blake looked at Yang hesitantly, almost as if she was expecting something from her. Yang just helped her clean up and get her into a chair, but Blake never stopped looking at her, seemingly transfixed by something on her face. 

“What?” Yang finally asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“Your eyes, your eyes are her eyes but how-”

Yang immediately looked at the baby, surprised when Blake held her out to her.

“Well the fates are tricky. But isn’t she just the most adorable baby ever!” Yang gently took her and rocked her, pausing only slightly when the girl’s eyes opened and were her exact shade of lilac, only with gold flecks along the center. 

Blake was muttering under her breath, seemingly unable to convince herself of something.

Yang placed a hand on her shoulder, turning Blake’s attention to her. 

“Hey, what is it?”

Blake shook her head, but then stopped, once again fighting an internal battle before seemingly losing.  
“There’s a tale in my town, that one’s soulmate would be reflected in their child no matter if they were together or not. And your lilac eyes, nowhere in the kingdom have I heard of them, but I’m just a peasant. You’re basically Princess Regent! I can’t figure it out, and you probably don’t want anything to do with us-”

Yang cut her off and shushed her gently.

“Hey, I don’t care about titles, or positions or whatever. All I know, is that there is something about you that is oh so alluring, and I want to know what it is. And I want to keep an eye on cutesy here” she poked the baby’s chubby little cheek before continuing. “I don’t expect you to believe, or for this to make sense, or for us to like, get married or whatever tomorrow, but I would like to get to know you at the very least.”

Blake flushed and busied herself with her baby, while Ruby suddenly found her ceiling tiles quite interesting. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking, what you’re agreeing to--with me.” Blake mumbled.

“Oh sweetheart, of this I’m sure, for you? I’d try anything.”

“Even if I’m a peasant?”

“Blake, even if you’re a peasant. Though if we will be doing this, you are most definitely not going to be a peasant. Maybe some type of noblesse...”

Blake laughed at that comment, and Yang felt a warmth make its home in her heart and knew, that no matter what, Blake was something to her, something big.

Something she wasn't going to let stumble out of her life in a similar matter to the way she stumbled in.

No way in hell, stalkers and bullets be damned.


	5. aunt ft. rw n bee babies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: aunt. 
> 
> i really need to work on sticking to one person's view or like, transitions. anywhooooo enjoy! :)

Ruby grinned as she spotted her niece crouched in the corner, hiding behind her rose bushes, taking care to not hurt her hands while peeking over them, trying to spot her. 

Ruby jumped out and moved to tackle her unsuspecting victim, only to cry out in confusion when her arms went straight through the girl and into her roses. 

“HEY!”

She heard a giggle off to her right and noticed Summer was standing almost right where she had been only seconds before, but was a bit more to the left, just out of Ruby’s line of sight. She untangled herself from the bushes and readied herself, and after a few seconds of waiting, launched herself in the direction of Summer, managing to catch her and struggling to keep her from slipping away. 

This went on for nearly twenty minutes, Ruby chasing Summer, or Summer chasing Ruby and Ruby trying to catch her. 

They collapsed onto the grass, making sure not to crush any of Wiess’ flowers, giggles coming from both of them, smiles large on their faces as they looked up at the clouds, just basking in the warmth of the sunlight. 

“Hey, Auntie Ruby?”

“Yeah, Summer?”

Ruby looked to her left and sat up when she saw the concern on her niece’s face. 

“Hey, Summer, what’s wrong? Talk to me, bee.”

Summer looked at the sky, hands splayed out on the grass, her fingers messing with the grass, concern, and apprehension written clearly on her face. 

“It’s Mummy, I’m worried for her, Auntie. She’s been really jumpy lately and almost, skittish?”

Ruby scrunched her face, thinking about what could be wrong. Summer kept talking, oblivious to Ruby’s brainstorming. 

“She’s always cautious, but she’s been extremely, just, off lately.”

Ruby thought hard before it hit her. It was the anniversary of the hell month that was Adam years before. Though he was safely locked up, with no hope of parole or escape (Weiss made sure of that,) his shadow never fully left her. No matter the circumstances, sometimes Blake still slipped into the mindset that she would turn a corner and she would see him standing there, angry, a demon coming to finish what he started long long ago. 

“Bee, there’s a long and painful story behind that that it is not my place to tell you.”

“But-!”

“I’m not done, just listen. It’s not my place to tell you the story, but I’ll tell you a bit, though if your moms ask, you didn’t hear this from me. There was a bad man, a very very bad man who hurt your Mami very very badly. And it was like that for a while, before your mum came in - very much like a superhero - and helped her. But the bad man had gotten to your Mami. You know how your Mami’s semblance leaves a shadow, and that shadow can stay for a long long time until your Mami makes it go away? But it isn’t your Mami?”

Summer scrunched her face in concentration, thinking over the words her aunt had told her, picturing them in her mind, before nodding. 

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Well, the bad man left a shadow on your Mami, but it hasn’t gone away. And I don’t know if it will ever go away completely, but it’s faded. But it’s still there, and some days the shadow is scarier than others. And there are days that were very scary for your Mami and your mum, and on those days you’ll notice Mami acts different. One day, she’ll explain it to you a bit better, a bit more detail, but that won’t be today. It may not be until you’re an adult - or almost.”

Summer looked at her aunt, saddened, but then her face shifted into one of silent contemplation. Her aunt looked sad. And Summer knew that was something that rarely happened to her aunt, and after taking in her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her slightly shaky voice, her pained look. She wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight, not unlike how she held her when she’d been scolded or she’d gotten hurt when she was younger. Summer could understand that she was small - she was only six - but she knew was a strong girl, after all, she helped her little sister Pyrrha out all the time when she got into tight spots, like up in the trees in the backyard when running from Auntie Ruby and Auntie Weiss’ dog Zwei. 

Mami said that dog was immortal often. She didn’t like Zwei very much either, but Summer loved him.

“I’m not that big a girl yet, but I’ll be strong for Mami like you want me to. I don’t want her to worry about the bad shadow man. Maybe we can get ice cream? Ice cream makes me feel better, maybe her too!”

Ruby grinned. “That’s a good idea, and maybe some for you too now that I think about it.”

Ruby began a tickle attack, causing shrieks of laughter to escape Summer before she managed to get a clone in place and escape. 

“I’M GONNA GET YOU BEE!” 

“NOT TODAY AUNTIE!”

Weiss and Yang watched on fondly from the downstairs window, small smiles on each of their faces as they watched some of the most important women in their lives live it up outside, their innocent energy emanating off of them in waves. Weiss’ smile was marginally larger than Yang’s, Yang being preoccupied with the drowsy three-year-old in her arms, and her wife’s temperament, her fears of monsters that would never truly go away. Weiss turned her head slightly and saw the way Yang worked her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes flitting over to the staircase leading upstairs every thirty seconds or so. It twisted at Weiss’ heart, reminding her far too much of a time where eggshells made up the floor and eyes said what words could never, of a time where demons were all too real. 

She carefully unwrapped Pyrrha from her mum and wrapped her around herself, before looking at a bewildered Yang and nodding towards the staircase. 

“Go. Ruby and I can handle the girls. Be with her. Bring her back to us.”

Yang’s eyes filled with the things she wanted to say, but Weiss just nodded towards the staircase once again. That was all Yang needed and she took off, just before Ruby and Summer came inside. 

“Auntie Weiss! I-”

Weiss quickly made a shushing motion and motioned towards the sleeping girl in her arms, who made a quiet noise of discontent but didn’t wake up. Ruby crouched and whispered in Summer’s ear before the girl cringed and then repeated herself, in a whisper this time.

“I’m gonna be strong for Mami and chase all the shadow men away!”

Weiss looked to Ruby for clarification and she just shrugged, and Weiss looked at Summer carefully, taking in the girl's determined face, and the set of her shoulders, and clearly saw the influence of her parents. 

“Alright, but you have to be gentle. Your Mum’s in there with her right now, so just wait until they come down, and then give your Mami the biggest hug you can give her, and tell her that the night is always darkest before the dawn.”

Summer looked a tad confused at the phrase, while Ruby breathed in slowly, remembering the first mission they’d had after the incident, how Blake had panicked when they got lost and night fell, how it took them all hours to calm her down lest she attract creatures. 

“Sometimes the monsters are really scary, and they can only be defeated with others. That’s what your Mum is helping your Mami do.”

Summer nodded, determined. Ruby talked to Summer and after a big nod and a conspiratorial wink to Weiss, they skipped out of the house, only to return about fifteen minutes later with their arms full of ice cream. Weiss sighed, knowing she’d have to drag Ruby home when the sugar wore off, and at that moments, there was a quiet shuffling as Yang came down the stairs, supporting a glassy-eyed Blake who smiled a bit when she saw Pyrrha asleep in Weiss’ arms, and there was a thud of something heavy hitting the floor and next thing Weiss or Ruby knew, Summer had made it across the living room and hand wrapped her Mami up in a tight hug, before pulling back and telling her with a tone reminiscent of Yang’s,

“The night is always darkest before the dawn, Mami!”

Tears sprang in Blake’s eyes and she clutched her daughter close to her, quiet sniffles heard as her tired voice spoke up.

“Thank you, Beebee. Thank you.”

Ruby smiled at the interaction in front of her, before gently elbowing Weiss in the direction of it and seeing her scoff before moving over and joining the hug, Yang finishing it off by wrapping her arms around as many of them as she could. 

Ruby grinned, happy at their little family, happy she could be in these girl’s lives, be their auntie, and happy that they were happy. 

Sometimes just seeing them smile was the best thing she could ask for.


	6. orgy ft. twisted references

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: orgy
> 
> didn't feel like writing smut so early in the shots, but then I discovered this and I twisted absolutely every allusion to fit my mind story. so sorry to any greek god lovers.

Music filled the air as the group danced joyously around the animals, said creatures looking from above at the ground as they were forced to submit to the rituals of the Cult of Dionysus. The animals were in their separate areas, a bull, a lion, a panther, and a bee, silently hoping they would be able to go free, that they wouldn’t be used as a sacrifice to the god Dionysus.

But the God of Chaos had different plans, plans that may or may not have been influenced by the weaving tapestry the Fates had most nearly finished.

Dionysus took on a form upon which he could be seen, and made his grand entrance in the center of the orgy, praises and shrieks emanating from them as they bowed to him. Wine was offered, along with foods but he shrugged it off, instead going over their faces, and the faces of the people in the town, thinking, plotting, before finally deciding who he was going to pick to embody the animals his worshippers had been so kind to collect, though he only really liked two. 

He admired their effort, though the bull was a bit generic, so he didn’t pay too much mind before pointing at a random man who was kneeling within the circle, motioning him forward. Without hesitation the man stood and walked toward him, his aura flaring with a cocky confidence and arrogance that struck an odd chord in the god. 

Dionysus did not pay it any mind, though the Fates worked faster, trying to stay ahead of major changes, trying to keep the story they’d been working on so long, one that rivaled even Hades and Persephone. 

He felt a joy at the panther in front, though it paced back and forth inside of their cage, desperate to be freed, but tired from fighting their cage. Few orgies ever put this much effort, most just used it as an excuse for wine and unrestrained coitus, and sometimes he did take offense and turn a couple people into satyrs, showing them the consequence of messing with a god. It worked, but never for very long. 

Dionysus took more care, going over the crowd, before ultimately picking the woman that had been kneeling next to the man. She stood, keeping her eyes averted, and she scooted carefully away from the man, though he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back towards him, a sound of discomfort escaping her, her body tensing when the man's grip tightened on her arm. 

She would get the panther.

There was a small commotion as a young girl walked into the area, quickly drawing his attention. But the woman behind her noticed his attention, and though not accustomed to the rituals, and unsure of which god stood before her, she stepped in front of the girl, drawing the god’s eyes to her. Dionysus felt her aura, a protective one, strong, not unlike a lion. More worthy than the others, much more by far than the ones kneeling before him. 

He pointed at her. 

She narrowed her eyes in defiance and he just pointed at her again, secretly amused that she had proved his earlier observations. 

The woman kneeled next to the other woman, both casting a look at each other in apprehension. 

He was the god of chaos, and the woman who he had picked as his panther appeared to be in a relationship with the man he had picked as his bull. So what would be the worst that could happen if he made the panther and the lion the bee? They’d reach their peak and could shift into the small creature and bee united forever. 

And so he chose them.

The three of them stood and walked forward towards the god, who quickly grew bored. 

The man grew horns, the first woman grew cat ears, and the last one had much more subtle features, eyes that shifted, a blood that ran hotter than it ever should, a hair that embodied the creature that now made its home inside of her.

And with that Dionysis left, noting what he’d done and resolving to check on them in a few months, see how things were moving along, if there was yet chaos. 

The newly morphed humans watched him leave, varying reactions on their faces. 

Ecstasy, panic, and anger. 

The bull turned his eyes on the panther and she cowered, the creature inside of her roaring to fight, but she beat it away. The lion’s eyes flamed red, drawing the bull’s attention as she stepped up next to the panther. The panther ducked behind the lion, but she never left her side, offering silent reassurances and reinforcement. 

The bull snorted and spit out poison and the panther took the blow, flinching as it melted part of her, and the lion roared and lunged. 

Brutal fights took place nearly every day until one day the tides changed, because the women discovered something they had not known before. 

And they changed and shifted and danced the sensuous dance of death. 

And they taught him his lessons in a manner in which he would not quickly forget, Hades made sure. 

For bees can recognize royalty they say.


	7. hurt ft. nova's art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: nova's art. v much hurt. i hope i did it justice! find the piece here.
> 
> https://nova-a3.tumblr.com/post/635670495488000000/so-yesterday-i-spent-like-the-entire-day-working
> 
> (only tumblr based oneshot in this series. i made a different one for others)

Yang stared.

And stared.

She couldn’t be seeing right. It just, it just, it just wasn’t right. 

Ruby, she was just, but she, she was just--

Gone. 

“RUBY!”

No answer.

“ _RUBY_!”

Still no answer.

Yang ran, keeping her eyes trained on the sky, the last place she saw her sister, uncaring of how the world fell to pieces around her, how different voices called her name, reached for her--she shrugged it all off. 

She had to reach Ruby. She didn’t care how she got there, she just had to help her.

She’d sworn to her sister she’d protect her--she’d sworn to Summer, she’d sworn to Qrow, she’d sworn to Tai--

She promised. She’d promised she’d keep her safe, and here she was, nothing left of her sister but her raggedly cloak she never took off because Qrow drunkenly mentioned once when they were younger that she looked like Summer when she wore it since Summer always wore one. 

And in a desperate attempt to be closer to the mother Ruby could barely remember, mostly thanks to tales and pictures, she always wore a cloak. No matter the weather, no matter the season, she’d wear it.

And for the first time in years, she wasn’t wearing it. It had been cruelly ripped off of her, and discarded as nothing. In the seconds before she disappeared, Yang saw her, and saw her without the cloak, the look of unbridled anger in her eyes, the way she did her best to hide the fear that came off of her in waves.

Her vision blurred and Yang slowed marginally to furiously wipe at her eyes with her hand, the hand that was holding Ruby’s cloak. 

That was all it took. 

She screamed as she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she lost the last bits of control she had. 

“RUBY!” once again left her throat, but instead of a yell came a gut-wrenching scream, her voice nearly indistinguishable to herself. 

She hears running footsteps behind her, but they don’t register, her eyes have fixated on the cloth in her hands, the tears streaming down her face blurring the red fabric. Some spots were a darker shade of red than others, and Yang could only plead and curse and pray, pray that it wasn’t Ruby’s. 

Blake skid to a stop in front of her, dropping to her knees as she reached for her, but Yang pulled away. 

She didn’t know why, but her knee-jerk reaction was to pull away. She didn’t look up, so she didn’t see the flash of hurt, pain, and understanding flash over Blake’s face. Her reaction didn’t deter Blake though, who once again reached out and carefully held between her two hands Yang’s free hand, that had taken to clawing at the tears streaming down her face instead of wiping. Yang stared at the limb like it was unnatural, even though it was hers, she didn’t recognize it. 

In fact, she hates it. It’s the limb that let go of Ruby, the limb that failed to bring her back.

She’s shaking so badly, hyperventilating, breath caught in her chest, crashing against the walls of her chest, stuck, lost-

Blake tilts her head up and forces her to make eye contact while she speaks to her, but Yang can’t hear her.

She can’t hear anything but the cursed Grimm. She can’t hear anything but the steadily increasing pace of her heart, her choked, stuttered sobs. 

Blake keeps talking, and Yang only knows this because she’s looking at her and her mouth is moving. Blake looks over her head, says something to the people behind her - Nora, Weiss, Jaune, Ren - she vaguely wonders what she looks like, how the pieces of her scattered across the ground shine. 

She vaguely wonders if anyone else felt it - the tearing of her soul nearly audible. If anyone else was affected by Ruby disappearing.

Blake drew her close, one hand holding her shaking own, and one cradling the back of her head as she pulls her close, holding her, rocking her gently as she falls apart, as she sobs her heart, her soul, her feelings out - 

As she curses herself and allows herself to crumble in the arms of the woman who she holds dear. 

Blake holds Yang, and Yang knows Blake can hear her heart beat, she feels her tears seeping through Blake’s clothes, goes to pull away but Blake doesn’t let her. 

She speaks again and this time Yang hears her.

“Love, just let me hold you, just, _stay_.”

And so Yang does, as the apocalypse rages around her, as things fall apart, as plans shatter, Yang stays.


	8. love ft. prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: love. after the last chapter i wanted something fluffier so I took love and asked my friends to add ideas. i hope I got them all! (and did them justice.)

Everything was fine, everything was fine but why was it so not fine?

Blake gripped the sides of the sink, her tea cup overturned on the floor next to her, spilt tea around the floor, splashes on the countertop from where she tried to pour it. Everything was fine - so why wasn’t she? It’d been well over three years since everything had gone down, three years of rebuilding and therapy and learning how to talk about things instead of run, and the others were making tangible progress, they’d all made great strides in periods between panic attacks and tremors, and it just hurt to see how others were moving on, with few drawbacks - while she stayed behind. 

No matter how she tried, she was always behind. 

She hadn’t noticed but she’d stepped back, crushing the teacup under her slipper, the pieces digging into her foot, drawing blood, spreading it across the floor, the blood mixing with the tea, the watery pink leaving trails across the floor as she stumbled back a few more steps. 

All she managed to do successfully was push the shards deeper. 

A strangled, choked breath left her throat, the diluted blood bringing back memories best left buried, memories of what seemed a lifetime ago, of frantically washing scraps of white and purple in a melted pile of snow before pressing them to a rapidly paling gold, tears streaming down her face as blood mixed with water, much like now, as red ran over her fingers, as gold froze - 

Blake’s back hit the bottom cabinet - she hadn’t noticed when she’d fallen - and she turned, scrambling to her feet, ignoring the sharp stabbing of pain she felt, as she fled from the kitchen, running from demons that only she could see. 

She bumped into the coffee table when she was making her way through the living room, the books on it crashing to the floor as she raced to her room, to Gambol Shroud, she should have never let it go, now here she was unarmed, unable to defend herself or anyone - 

She made it inside her room and immediately dove for the box in the back of the closet that held her weapon, her protection, only to be stopped short by a pair of arms encircling themselves around her shoulders and pulling her back.

Without looking Blake started fighting. At first she was wildly swinging, just trying to make contact, but then she remembered what Yang had taught her. She threw her head back, stomped down as hard as she could, and bit whatever she could. 

“Blake! BLAKE!”

She slowed her attacks, the voice was familiar but she couldn’t place it. She shadowed her way out of the hold and turned to see Yang in front of her. Or was it Yang? Maybe it was Neo-, no wait, Neo couldn’t talk, but Emerald, she could be projecting onto someone, she needed to leave she needed to find Yang-

“Baby it’s me. Can you not recognize me?” There was a note of pain in Yang’s voice, but Blake needed to be sure before she let the possibly fake Yang get any closer to her. 

“You’ll need to prove that, and then maybe I won’t kill you where you stand.”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Um, your favorite book is ‘A Man With Two Souls,’ though you’ll never admit it, your favorite tea is jasmine with a spoonful of honey, Gambol’s in the back of the closet with Ember - I don’t see her on your back honey - and we’ve been dating for two years in three weeks.” 

Blake’s eyes narrowed as she stared Yang down, almost but not quite convinced that it was her. 

“I’m going to need more than that.” Blake started reaching for her scroll to dial Ruby and Weiss, only to freeze when she didn’t feel it in her pocket. 

She must have dropped it on her way over from the kitchen. 

Almost-Yang took a step towards her and Blake took another step back. She wasn’t convinced, and until she was, she wasn’t letting this stranger impersonating her love near her. 

“Fine. Um, the necklace around your neck, the burning heart and the belladonna flower, I got that for you to represent us, so you could always have something that clearly reminded you of me, like that burning heart tattooed on your ribs right under your heart, just like I have a belladonna tattooed on my ribs under mine.”

Yang slowly moved her hands towards her t-shirt, making no sudden moves, but Blake didn’t waver from her stance. Yang pulled it up and her bra a tad so Blake could see the belladonna tattoo. 

And that convinced her. They never told anyone about the tattoos, Blake had begged her not to tell anyone about them, spilt her mind about how no matter how much time passed, the threat of Yang once again being an illusion and then cruelly ripped from her was too much to bear. 

Blake let herself sag, and as the adrenaline began to slow its path through her veins, she felt herself slipping. Her world was spinning, small, her breaths, uneven, short. 

Maybe she’d been drugged. 

She felt a strong pair of arms encircle her, and before her mind could run away with her again, her nose filled with the scent of patchouli and citrus and she felt herself relax, even against the theories her brain was spitting out faster than she could keep up with. 

“Shit, baby girl your bleeding.”

Oh. That explained her blurry vision. Maybe she hadn’t been drugged. 

“Sweetheart, how long have you been bleeding?”

“I don’t...I don’t know, a while I guess.”

“Shit, what’s - oh my gods, Blake this is your teacup. Shit you’ve been bleeding since you went to make tea? Baby, that was almost twenty minutes ago, I-”

Yang carefully picked her up and laid her on the bed, her legs hanging off of it awkwardly. 

“I’m gonna go get the first-aid kit. It’s in the bathroom right behind me, okay sweetheart?”

Blake nodded, tilting her head at Yang almost as if she was actually seeing her now. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing one of her oversized bedtime shirts with her boy shorts, and oh, she must have been fresh out of the shower when Blake had come barreling into the room. 

Yang walked slowly into the bathroom and Blake watched her go, resisting the urge to reach for her foot. Or look at it. In her current state, she knew looking at it could easily send her back into hysterics. 

And that wouldn’t be good. 

Yang came out of the bathroom holding the kit, her face betraying nothing of the damage Blake had undoubtedly caused to her foot. She could just hope she wouldn’t need stitches. 

Scooting the bench at the foot of the bed back a bit, Yang sat down and propped Blake’s foot in her lap as she popped open the kit and snapped on a pair of gloves. Blake raised an eyebrow at that, but Yang just shrugged. Blake went to sit up but fell back onto her elbows as her head spun. 

“Don’t try that baby. Just let me take care of you, alright? I’ll patch you up and then we’re gonna talk for a bit and you’re gonna tell me what’s wrong over a cup of tea and maybe some brownies, okay love?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds - ahH - lovely.”

Blake squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stifle the groan that left her lips as Yang used a pair of tweezers to pull out the larger shard of the teacup. There was a series of smaller stabs as Yang removed other pieces of the cup, and Blake did her best to just focus on her breathing, doing her best to try and keep calm and from moving, as to not make Yang’s job harder. 

She shouldn’t even have to do this, but Blake had been weak, had lapsed, and here they were. 

“Hmm, it’s deep, and - deep breath for me - I’ll put stitches in once I finish stemming the bleeding a bit, if that’s alright with you, sweetie? We can go to a hospital or a urgent care if it makes you feel better-”

“No.” Blake interrupted firmly, feeling her palms sweat at the thought of a small square of sterilized white, of machines, of ghosts that roamed the hallways. 

“Alright that’s fine, but this is going to hurt. I’m going to numb it a bit alright?”

Blake just nodded, too busy focusing on her breathing to trust her voice to give a verbal answer. 

She felt a prick as Yang numbed the area, and after a minute or so she felt Yang shift and a slight tug on her foot as Yang quickly and with a practiced ease made a row of tiny stitches. She heard Yang dig around in the first aid box as she fell onto her back, arms splayed out to the sides as she stared at the plastic stars and string lights adorning their ceiling. 

Yang started to wrap the gauze around her foot, looking back at her a couple times to make sure she was still awake, before finishing it off. 

“I’m going to put this back, love. Stay awake for me?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here when you get back sunshine. It’s not  _ that  _ far of a trip.”

Yang smiled one of her smiles, those smiles where she knows something you don’t, and Blake let herself be drawn in. She looked back towards the stars on the ceiling, busying herself with counting them as she waited for Yang to return. 

She felt herself drifting off but then Yang came back into the room, a tray in her hands, a plate piled high with brownies and two steaming cups on it. She carefully set the tray down on the bed near Blake, before climbing in next to her. 

Blake let out a squeak when Yang lifted her into a sitting position, helping her find a position that wasn’t too uncomfortable on her foot, but so that she wouldn’t spill her tea on herself and add burns to her list of injuries for the day. 

Blake took one of the brownies and bit into it, reveling in the richness of it before meeting Yang’s eyes. 

Though the woman didn’t say anything, her eyes asked question after question.

“ _ Are you okay? What happened? How can I help? Let me in, please. Don’t lock me out. I’m here. I love you. I love you. _ ”

It was the uncensored affection in her expression that caused Blake to down the rest of her tea - surprisingly little of it left - and set it back on the tray. Yang raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

Always waiting, never rushing. Always patient, letting her lead, go at her pace. 

It was still sometimes unreal to Blake, even though they had been together for years at this point. 

Yang took the tray and placed it on the bench before crawling to the top of the bed and shimmying under the covers. 

She held them open, and motioned towards Blake. 

“Join me?”

Blake nodded once and crawled over, wincing a bit when her foot snagged on the covers but quickly made herself comfortable on Yang’s chest, placing her head over her heart, the steady beat a comfort to her. Yang draped the covers back over them, chuckling when Blake shifted so her feet were between Yang’s legs.

“Ah, damn, popsicle toes strikes again! I’m wounded baby, how will I survive?”

Blake giggled, the familiar jab a comfort. 

“Maybe I can make it up to you-?”

She took one of Yang’s hands and gently guided it to her ears, before carefully letting it rest, trying not to move around too much.

She looked up and caught Yang’s look of love and amazement, and had to look away at the sheer amount of affection the woman was emanating. 

“Wait, really? Blake, you’re letting me touch them right now?”

“Yes, you can, but if you keep asking, I’m taking my offer back!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yang shut up but instead began moving her hands, one tracing mindless repetitive patterns on Blake’s back and the other carefully scratching, tracing, and rubbing on Blake’s cat ears. She melted into Yang’s embrace, feeling the woman hold her a bit tighter. 

“Feeling gay yet, kitty?”

“What the hell Yang.”

“Get it? Like, happy gay, because like we’re dating, so I’m hoping you’re the other gay too-”

“Amor, I’m the one who writes. I know. It was terrible, but adorable.”

Yang grinned, before her face melted into something more loving - domestic almost.

“I love you. I know I don’t say it much out loud, but, Blake Belladonna, I love you.”

Blake felt her eyes water and clutched Yang’s shirt tightly as she buried her head in her chest, the sensation of Yang’s hand on the back of her head holding her close just - sending her.

The love was palpable, and it was thick. And Blake was perfectly content to drown in it.

“I dropped my cup earlier.” she started, the words thick and heavy.

“Mhm.”

Yang made a noncommittal noise, making Blake continue.

“And then I remembered trying to patch you up, and then there was blood mixing in the tea and-”

Yang went back to drawing senseless patterns on her back with her fingers, each more sure and determined. Her other hand gently scratched at her ears, drawing her out of her spiral. 

“I was scared. I couldn’t see you, I thought, I thought I’d lost you again! I just, I never seem to make any progress while all of you are growing by leaps and bounds and I’m just so far - behind.”

“Sweetheart, I’m flattered you think we’re doing great, but it’s not that big a difference. I still have tremors and nightmares, Jaune still has bouts where he flies into a frenzy if he can’t see one of his teammates. Nora’s still on the fritz sometimes, while Ren still has moments that could rival an Apathy. Weiss struggles to talk through things, and not summon things when surprised, and Ruby, Ruby still panics when she can’t reach Oscar or Penny, or when she sees someone that looks like Cinder or Salem-”

“We all panic when we see someone that looks like Salem, Yang.”

“Okay, valid point, but still. And Oscar still has moments where he forgets its just him in his head now. He still hates heights and large birds.”

Blake looked up at her, but Yang’s gaze was elsewhere, remembering.

“We all have our struggles, some of us just struggle a bit more. And you’ve had to work through more than most of us. It’s perfectly valid.”

Blake snuggled deeper into Yang, her fears pushed away for now. 

She knew she was in the arms of love personified, and that she’d protect her. She knew she was safe, and her brain accepted that for now at least. 

But she had people near her that she’d keep fighting back for against those fears for everyday. 

And maybe one of these days, she’d beat them for good. All with the woman she loved and her family - both found and biological - standing with her.

It was a good day to love and be loved.


	9. flowers ft. hanahaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: hanahaki. 
> 
> a prologue of a longfic i have yet to finish.

She clutched the other girl's hand, pleading with her. It pained her - and it worsened her condition - seeing her lying here, on her bed. She refused to go to a hospital, she refused to get the surgery, and she refused to believe her.

"Please, I'm not," she covered her mouth to stifle a cough. "I'm not lying to you! I truly love you, and if you'd just believe me -!"

The other girl just laughed.

"I didn't you would stoop this far just to try and save me. This hurts more, all the lies. You wouldn't know, you don't understand how hard it is to be hacking up," she turned her head to the side and coughed harshly for a few seconds before dry heaving a little and spitting out three petals of an amaryllis lily, spots of pinkish mucus decorating the flowers, before turning back to the girl. "Flowers that constantly remind you of the one person you can't have."

The other girl shook her head furiously, desperate to make the girl understand. She coughs lightly into her hand before wiping it on the back of her whitewashed jeans.

"Please, just believe me! Why would I lie to you about this?! I know how you feel, and what good would it do me to lie? All it would do is worsen o-!" she paused again, clearing her throat and swallowing hard.

"I don't want to lose you."

The other girl just stared.

"I've always loved you," she closed her eyes and pulled her hand out of the other girl's grasp, and turned to her side, coughing weakly. It was obvious this particular conversation was over.

The girl standing sighed, and turned away, but not before placing a small kiss on the side of the laying girl's head.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again until you believe me, I love you."

She let out a shaky breath and turned away, walking hunched over, as if in pain. When the laying girl heard the door click open, she shifted and tilted her head slightly over her shoulder to watch the girl walk away. She couldn't help it.

And her heart froze.

As the door swung shut behind her, the laying girl saw on the back of her jeans a couple of streaks of blood, and a few helianthus petals stuck to her.

She really did know.

She tried to call out to her, but a coughing fit took over, and by the time she managed to spit out a small amaryllis bud, the other girl was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha-this is practice. I am learning how to write these girls again. just in time for volume 8 which will more than likely break my heart.


End file.
